Betrayed?
by youngpatriot
Summary: What's the most precious thing in the world? Effie's answer is loyalty, but she doesn't know that yet. All she really wants is to be a great escort, and prove her own worth. But that comes with a price, one she is not sure she can ever face. Starts with her childhood, and ends around Mockingjay.
1. Chapter 1 Prologue

**How did Effie become a escort? What was it like to work with Haymitch, and have been left behind? Here's prologue to her story...**

I love talking to people, but now Katniss and Peeta are depending on me. And Haymitch can never win a sponsor, so it's all on my shoulders. I know I'm rambling, but I need to get this man to commit to keeping the money coming. I just can't bear to look at the screens, not now, perhaps not ever.

I'm actually terrified of what Johanna just did to Katniss, but hoping that this man will give me money to fix the damage that brat caused. But time is so short, and this guy's eyes keeps floating to the screens. Please, I'm begging, please just focus on what I'm saying.

"Katniss and Peeta are strong," I smile, "Just a bit of medicine will fix whatever Johanna Mason did to her."

The man nods absently, while I mentally curse that stupid screen. "Well, I like them too you know, but I really don't know about putting down that much money right now." He shrugs and waves his hand, loaded with a wine glass, spilling little red drops on the tips of my gold shoes. I do my best not to scowl.

"Of course, but if anyone is going to win these games," I can't finish my sentence because this woman starts screaming. And not just one woman, but a lot of ladies in the room. Turning, I finally glance at the screens, just as they flash black. Around me, the sponsor center dissolves into chaos.

"That was Katniss Everdeen! Did you see that! Impossible, it's all wrong," The voices blend, and I begin to search for Haymitch. The man beside me drops his wine glass, he saw whatever just happened. He's my only connection to the screens, I need to find out what's going on.

I grab his arm before he can leave my side, "What just happened up there?" I motion to the screen.

"Miss Trinket, I have no idea, I think it was your victor." Now I really do scowl, Katniss obviously couldn't have made the screens go black. And I don't think Haymitch is down here helping me out, so I decide to go check out the mentor's lounge. They should have some answers.

I elbow my way through the crowd of sponsors, smiling graciously, apologizing, but I don't think anyone notices me. I easily block out the bits and pieces I pick up, they're saying terrible things about Katniss. But it's so simple to ignore stuff like that, after all I've been doing it all my life.

I decide to take the stairs up to the lounge, the elevators are crammed with sponsors, and viewers, apparently everyone needs to be somewhere when the screens go black. The stairwell is lit up, as well as being empty, and I easily navigate to the fourth floor, two stories up. Throwing open the door into the hall, I know something is definitely wrong. It's eerily quiet.

"Haymitch?" I call, attempting a sprint in my heels, "Haymitch?" I round the corner into the mentoring room. The screens are black here too, but the place is empty. Completely. Where is everyone? Haymitch wouldn't go to a bar till after our tributes were dead, right? They can't be dead, people would be celebrating a victor, not breaking into pandemonium.

The only other place he might be are our quarters. It's down the skywalk, and as I pass between the two buildings, I see a huge crowd below me. The screens are still dark, and it looks very confusing down there. It's been at least 30 minutes, and my heart starts to race as worry for my children takes over. Anything could have happened in that arena by now.

This hallway is full of reporters, and I resist the urge to cover my ears as they shout questions at me. I don't know _anything. _And when I find Haymitch I'm going to kill him for not being here, helping me out. We are Katniss's and Peeta's team, we should have been together!

I rush towards the elevators, jamming buttons. I feel panic, but I push it down. If he was up to something, well if Katniss and Peeta were, they would all have told me. This one place is also creepily empty, I feel goose bumps forming, and I am eternally thankful when the elevator finally dings.

It's full of escorts wanting to go upstairs, but they all seem to have more knowledge than me. The moment they spot me, they assault me with questions. And I don't have any answers. But I soon grasp the utter nonsense of their ideas. _Like Katniss could really blow out the force field with an_ _arrow?_ Come on, sometimes I am even astounded by my fellow citizens ignorance. So it appears we are all in the dark about what is really going on.

One by one they get out, leaving me all alone as I reach our floor. I don't know what I expected when I reached our quarters, but it wasn't them.

Peacekeeper, five of them are standing around as I step out. "Hello Miss Trinket, how good of you to come." One of them steps towards me, a strange smile on his face. Why is he even smiling? A peacekeeper has never spoken to me, I've never broken any law.

I frown, and fidget with my glove, "I'm looking for Mr. Abernathy. I was not expecting you." I try to peer past them, but they are doing a very good job of blocking my view.

"It appears, Miss Trinket that we are both looking for M Abernathy." He stares at me, and I feel a sudden chill.

"I don't understand," I can't seem to keep the slight trace of fear from my voice, all I really want to know is whether my sweet team is safe. I don't want to be talking to these peacekeepers.

"Miss Trinket, your victors are involved in a rebellion," his eyes narrow, and I feel very cold inside, "Either you were betrayed, or you are involved."

I answer without thinking, "Haymitch, Peeta, they would never betray me. Not even Katniss." I try to take a step back, but he grabs me arm, making me yelp. "Why are you touching me?"

His eyebrows raise, "If you were not betrayed," his voice trails off, and I feel overwhelmed. _A rebellion_, Haymitch would have told me right?

"Where is everyone? Where are my friends?" I demand, trying to free myself from this iron grasp. The stupidity of the question doesn't hit me till much later.

"Miss Trinket, you don't know?" The man smiles down at me, making me realize that I've slipped out of my heels, becoming embarrassingly short, "They left you, and we have just a _few_ questions." My free hand grasps my gold bangle, as desperation runs through me._ What is really happening? _

I shake my head, my voice is caught in my throat. Only one thought repeats itself,_ I thought we were a team._

**Sound good? I'm writing a SYOT, so that's my top priority, but I'll try to keep up with this as well. Looking forward to your thoughts!**


	2. Chapter 2-Beginning

**Before the events in the prologue, obviously...not sure exactly when.**

How do I bring this up? It's special news, but I'm really worried how Mom's going to take it. She has this idea that I don't need to create a career. Only Dad seems to think I can do what I want. But tonight he's not home, he's working late. Again. Somehow, I have to tell my mom about our special guest at school, without setting her off. A difficult job.

"Hey, mom," I walk into our dining room, sitting down at the table beside her, "Thanks for the shrimp, I just love it!"

She nods, "District 4 has the best seafood, I'm so happy it's in season." She rambles on about timing for foods, and other stuff. But I stare at my bowl of orange cream soup, trying to decide how to bring it up.

"So, Mom," she looks up, her long eye lashes batting, "We, had a career day at school."

"Oh, Euphemia, how nice for everyone. I assume you skipped that class. You are too pretty to ever need a career."

Apparently that wasn't the best way to bring this up, "Well, no I stayed and listened. It was very interesting, Mama."

"Euphemia, you are going to get married, you don't need a career." She frowns in my direction, and I struggle to control my breathing. Not only is she telling me not to pursue a career, but calling me by my full name, which I absolutely hate. Everyone else but her calls me Effie, why can't she?

"I know what you've said, but I got to take this test, it said that I'm people oriented, and will work well under stress and helping others."

She slams her hand down hard on the table making me jump, "Nonsense, you would only ruin a job, Euphemia, I don't want to hear any more." She stands, calling for a servant to come pick up the dishes. This conversation is obviously finished.

I lower my eyes, feeling the tears form. I can't argue with her, I'll have to wait for Dad to come home. He'll understand. At least I hope so.

After dinner, I rush up to my room, turning up my music enough to block out my Mom. She doesn't understand how badly I want to accept the teachers' offer, how much I want to work. And if I don't start training now, I'll never ever get this opportunity again. In fact she didn't even listen to what the teachers offered me. And everyone knows that not everyone in the Capitol gets offered these kind of deals.

I turn down the music after a little while, trying to be sure I hear when my Dad walks in. It's a bit after 10, when I hear him come in. I walk down the back set of stairs, eavesdropping on my parents greeting each other. Mom rarely spends much more than a hello kiss on him, I'm pretty sure she and dad aren't sleeping together anymore. But like always, they are polite. As soon as I know Mom has gone back up to her room, I sweep into our parlor.

"Daddy, I'm glad you're finally home!"

He looks up giving me a tired smile, and I give him a peck on the cheek, standing on my tiptoes to reach him. "How are you, honey?" He squezzes my hand, making me feel his care.

"Great! I had an amazing day, it was career day at school, and there were so many neat people and jobs, even tests, and I got to find out all this stuff, and my teacher,"

My dad holds up his hands, laughing, "Take it slow, Effie, you don't have to tell me all at once." He takes a step back, and I remind myself not to overwhelm him, after all it is pretty late.

I know I'm blushing, my face feels so hot, "Sorry, it was just so, so exciting!"

"What did you learn, tell me all about it," he sits on a chair, ready to listen to me. I love how my Dad always has time for everything, especially me.

"I'm a people person, work well under stress, and have a sense of diplomacy." I smile, knowing my dad is actually listening to me. "So what do you think?"

"My little princess might be getting a pretty cool job, huh?"

"She's not getting any job, Pythagoras. How can you encourage her?" her voice is harsh, mean even, surprising both of us.

I hadn't heard my mom and literally jump a foot in the air. _Where did she come from? _My dad's saying something, but I'm still trying to figure out how my mom snuck down here without me noticing.

"Lucille, don't play Effie down, she's smart, and can handle the world." I practically sink into the wall, as my parents begin to assault one another, over me.

"She's a clumsy girl, and you, Py have put these ideas into her head. No proper girl works for a living!"

"That's not true, don't be jealous because you are too lazy to work!"

"If Euphemia leaves the home, she'll turn into nothing more than a whore! Pretty girls like her can't get respectable jobs."

Shock overcomes by my mom's cruel words. I'm shaking all over, and cover up my ears to not hear, but the sound still filters in, the hate filled snarls of my mom, and it's just nauseating. I dart from the room, jumping the stairs into my bedroom.

I fall on the pink covers, my body is shaking uncontrollably. Why? I know my mom thinks terrible things of most working girls, but she thinks I would be a whore? I fight the urge to vomit, then the desire to scream. As my anger subsides, I begin to sob, clutching my teddy bears, and wishing I had never heard my mom's voice.

**How old do you think Effie was in the 74th games? **


	3. Beginning

**So, I'm going to say Effies 15 now, and this is just after the 62nd games. My artistic license :-) Hope you enjoy!**

I wake up, stretching my toes, enjoying the satin feel of my comforter. I'm momentarily confused, I shouldn't still be in bed so late in the morning. I force myself from my sheets, slipping on my velvet slippers.

Making my way down the stairs, I run into our house maid, Claudia. She's lived with us as long as I can remember, she's like a second mom. Maybe more like my first.  
"Claudia, have you seen my Mom?"

Her tan cheeks form into a small smile, "No, Miss Trinket, I have not served Madam Trinket this morning."

I know my lips have formed a small pout, because of the sympathetic look forming on her face, "May I get you anything? A cup of chocolate perhaps?"

I slide unto the bar seat, "Sure, I'd love some cinnamon spice with that."

She nods, scurrying to fetch my favorite drink. I guess my mind has wondered, because I don't hear my dad until he speaks.

"Good morning, Effie. Claudia getting you breakfast?" he places a hand on my shoulder, giving me a comforting massage.

"No, just a drink, you haven't gone to work. Are you going?"

He sighs, sitting beside me. "No, I'm going to take you to stay with my sister, Georgiana. Things will get better there."

My eyes widen, and if it weren't for the solemn look on my Dad's face I would be delighted. "Are you and Mama coming?"

He runs his hand down the marble counter, "Go pack a bag, Effie. We need to leave soon. It isn't polite to be late."

I nod, knowing he doesn't want to discuss Mom. My climb up the stairs is rather joyless. There's this lingering fear that my parents may end up separated, even divorced. That's what happened to my best friend, Alyda's family.

Divorce is fairly common among the upper aristocracy, but my parents' are working class. If Mom left, I would be socially shunned. I know that Alyda is never invited to parties, she can't even find a boyfriend. We stopped talking after their family affair, and I haven't even see Alyda at school in ages.

I grab my favorite bag, a purple case, stuffing it with a few outfits. I jump into a turquoise dress, placing my favorite feathered hat on my half combed hair. Slipping on a pair of heeled sandals, I run downstairs. Dad is already waiting. Claudia had poured my chocolate up, and I sip the tasty drink while Claudia rearranges my messy bag. I can't help thinking that if Mom left, Claudia won't be around. She would be disgraced to even work in our household.

Once Claudia has straightened my clothes, Dad and I set out. We walk to the metro. I've always been glad the nearest pick up is only two blocks from our condo.

Once we're seated I finally work up the courage to really ask about Mom. "Are you two going to be alright?"  
Dad glances down, his eyebrows raised. "If you are worried about our relationship, Effie, your fear is misplaced. Your mother and I don't want to damage our family reputation or ruin any chance of a future for you."

I must have let out a sigh of relief, because he chuckles before speaking again. "I know you must think we don't love each other, and you are probably right. I don't think I've ever even heard of someone marrying for love. But your mom can at least tolerate me for a little longer."

I purse my lips, concentrating on the advertising screen on the back of the seat in front of us. I guess Dad is right, I don't think any of my friends' parents actually love each other. Having never thought of this before, I run through reasons why people get married. There's really only one reason to be married, to advance your social status. And since I plan on doing that through work, I suppose I'll never get married.

I lean on dad's shoulder, closing my eyes, trying to rest on the 45 minute ride. Aunt Georgiana married above dad, I think he might even be a Gamemaker. Anyway, they live far into the center of Capitol city. We can only visit occasionally, I gather Dad's economic status is something of an embarrassment.

I must have fallen asleep, because Dad has to nudge me awake. Yawning, I notice we've gone underground. Space in the city center is so precious, they have to put a lot of stuff underground. And apparently everyone is here, because it is very crowded. Not that I'm complaining, seeing all these people is definitely fun!

We step out, instantly accosted by advertising. One man catches my attention, he had posters from last year's games!

"Learn the secrets to victory! An exclusive interview with Enobaria!" The magazine cover glints, and I pause, secretly hoping dad will buy me a copy.

"You don't have one of these?" He stops, noticing my glances toward the seller. "Would you like one?"  
"I think so, Mom doesn't pick these up when we go shopping."

He nods, handing over some bills to the seller, who smiles widely at me. "Enjoy it miss. You might even catch her running around this part of the city."

I gasp, "Really Dad?"  
He takes my hand, pulling me towards the exits, "Georgiana can tell you more about that, she knows a lot about meeting victors."

We go above ground, finding a rickshaw to take us into the residential peaks. Aunt Georgiania's house is massive, surrounded by other celebrity estates. People like the Flickermans, Templesmiths, and Cranes.

The rickshaw takes us right up to the front steps, and I jump out, rather excited to get to stay here at all. We've been here for dinner, but I've never gotten to stay the night. I kind of wonder how dad managed this.

An avox opens the door. I forget that Aunt Georgiana's servants can't talk. I'm glad Claudia can speak, it would be strange to be surrounded by this quiet people. The avox leads us inside, but before we go very far, Dad's sister appears.

"Oh, there you are! I was worried about how long it's been. Oh, Effie you've grown so much! Oh, how old are you now?"

I glace at dad, "I'm almost 16."

She nods, turning to dad, "Oh, Pythagoras, you look so down! Here, let's have a glass of Boudreaux." She pats my head, but I'm only watching her purple curls. I'm kind of jealous, they look so fun to wear!

"No, Georgi, I'm already way over my head. I just hope you can help Effie."

My aunt purses her lips, which are a cute shade of lavender. "Oh, I know. But you mustn't worry. Oh, Salem and I have big plans for darling Effie."

My dad shifts, bending down to give me a hug. "Be careful, and have fun." He whispers in my ear, before standing to kiss his sister's cheek. I'm kind of surprised that he actually does leave me here all alone.

My Aunt grins at me, "Oh, Effie, I can finally give you the culture you've always needed."

I suppose some people would be scared by my aunt, but I'm only jittery. She lives in pretty high circles here in Panem, I should try to learn all I can from her. Especially if that involves me and a future job. Something other than marriage.


	4. Switched

**Hope you like where I take this chapter. :-)**

"Oh, Effie would you like to go see you room?" My aunt pushed me towards the swirling staircase, and I stumbled up the stairs, hoping she wouldn't push me over.

"Oh, I know you're going to love the color scheme! Isn't pink your favorite color?"

I nod, not wanting to argue with her. But she chirps at me, "Oh, my dear, it is terribly impolite to ignore my inquiry. Oh, I know you nodded, but words are simply so much better."

"I'm sorry, Aunt Georgiana, I do like pink."

Oh, and you should never apologize. Oh, you must realize how crucial it is to be confident. Oh, you do know that people will never respect you if you are constantly groveling for pardon."

Why does my Aunt say_ Oh_ in front of every sentence? It's been months, maybe even a year since I've seen her, but I don't remember this habit.

She steps in front of me, pushing the door open to the room. I am swarmed by pink, the colors on the carpet, the bed, the curtains, even the window panes have the color. My parents can't afford to decorate this well, I know my cheeks are flushed from the sight.

"Oh, and we ordered mahogany furniture! It's simply the best. Oh, of course, we must be very careful not to scratch it at all, but I'm sure you, my dear sweet Effie, will be vigilant in the care of this wood."

"Yes, ma'am." I run my hand over the headboard. "It's very nice. Thank you."

My aunt smiles, clapping lightly, "Oh, you must not call me ma'am, just Aunt Gigi. Oh, can't you do that?"

I stop myself from apologizing, reminding myself of her previous instructions. "Thank you, Aunt Gigi."

"Oh, now Effie." She grabs my arm, but gently, "let's go downstairs. I have a stylist I want you to meet!"

She continues to ramble. "Oh, we have another topic to peruse. Notice how I preface much of my speech with Oh?"

I nod, it's kind of hard not to notice. She continues. "Oh, it's become quite a fad now, picking something to set your speech apart. Some have started stuttering, but only with certain letters. Or raising your vocal chords an octave at the end of one's sentence. Oh, there are myriads of options, I just want you to consider this, because you will need to develop your own icon. Oh, Effie, each of us have to create our own image, an example for the lower classes to behold."

I nod, trying to decipher her meaning. "But no one's going to be looking up to me. I'm not in anything important." At least not yet. Maybe someday.

My aunt stops, closing her purple eye lids. She puts a hand to her forehead, shuddering. "Oh, my sister-in-law had poisoned your mind! Oh, I knew my brother should never have married her." Opening her eyes, she leans towards me, placing a finger under my chin. "Oh, Effie, you were born for great things. Oh, one must not let the cynicism of others drown your true potential." She smiles, her face brightening.

I'm still processing what she's saying. "How can anyone look up to me?"

She cocks her head, "Oh, That's why you're here. I'm going to open the world to you, dear child. Oh, no longer will you stay hidden. I simply can't let such a sweet relative of mine be wasted because of her stubborn mother."

She pulls along, and I guess we would have met her stylist, except my uncle showed up. "Gigi!" He called, rounding the halls corner. "I see, hello Effie."

I nod, bobbing a small curtsy. He tips his head in my direction, but focuses his attention fully on my Aunt. "I got a call from the hill. They want us at that party tomorrow."

A small gasp escapes my aunt lips. "Are you serious? My hair hasn't been changed since that last party? What could possibly be so important as to demand my presence?"

My uncle sighs, "I know what you're thinking. But Luce managed to get us in, not just managed, but its official. They're going to announce us on the official premier guest list with Caesar tonight."

Premier list? The one listing only relatives and advisers to President Snow? Is my Aunt really that high up?

I see my aunt clinch her fist, and I am really shocked. What could be wrong with being invited to a party? And on the premier list? She hisses, catching me off guard.

"Who on the presidential staff is trying to ruin us? How could they be maligning me one moment, then requesting us the next! Are they really trying to make this household a laughingstock?"

My uncle raises his hands in a slight shrug. "I'm wondering that myself, but you shouldn't fret. I have powerful friends, we'll see the culprit flushed out, and our position undaunted."

My aunt harrumphs, "If I am to be there, be sure we are seated with Enobaria. Prove to our enemy that we can't be defeated."

"Certainly, I'll call and talk to Luce, he's working the staff placement." He steps away, nearly jogging down the hall.

My aunt is shaking her head, and she seems surprised that I'm still standing here. "Oh, Effie, I'm too busy now, you just go play or something."

Play? I'm 15, not five. "Do I get to go the party?"

"Goodness no! It's too soon to have you on the guest list, and Feria can't possibly style you in time." She squeezes my shoulder, before walking away, her heels clicking on the marble floor.

I head up to my new room, trying to decide what exactly I should be doing. Plopping down on the bed, I revel in the feel of the soft goose down.  
I pick up my travel bag, unzipping and scrummaging for one of my fashion magazines that I threw in here. My fingers find an envelope, something I definitely did not pack. Pulling it out, I see my name I bold black ink. My heart jumps, that's Dad's handwriting!

I tear it open, my curiosity driving me. What does Dad have to say? He must have slipped this in here on board the met, or while I was drinking hot chocolate back home. It's kind of funny that he could be so sneaky.

* * *

_"Dear Effie,_

_I'm making a big decision. It's for your benefit, though I know you will have trouble with this at first._

_Your mother and I disagree about many things, and this will only hurt you more. I want you to understand that we took steps to ensure your future happiness, but I'm afraid that if I don't communicate them to you now, that it will be misinterpreted later. Your mother is in not state to provide or care for you, as was manifest by her behavior last night._

_I married your mom, because I did truly think it was best. Her family gave her a generous dowry, and I needed a foothold in my current employment, where her father was a manager. Two years later, my sister married your uncle, propelling our entire family into new social spheres. I had never expected the name Trinket to be aligned with the likes of the Cranes. But it happened, and there were new expectations of me and your mom._

_We planned on having children, but once my sister married it became complicated. Our new Society demanded we use surrogacy, but your mom refused. I acquiesced. And you were born. From then on, your mother was shunned by my sisters' friends, people who had previously welcomed her company as your aunt's sister-in-law._

_Sometimes I do wonder if we made a good decision, but then I look on you, and all my doubts are removed._

_Anyway, your mother was thrown into a deep depression. We sold our house that we had recently bought, moving to our current home. We had lived in high circles for 6 years, only to lose it. I found new employment, and tried to forget what had been temporarily ours. Sadly, when you were 3 years old, your mom spent 6 months in a treatment facility. The doctors say she suffers from clinical depression, but she refused to be medicated, afraid that it would impact her care of you._

_I should have done this long ago. Because of our mistake, you will never be accepted or granted the life I imagined for you. Once your teachers read our social files, they won't allow you into the academy. I'm sorry, but I talked to your principal early this morning, there was a miscommunication involving your career options. They had not gone over all your files. Your abilites are unquestioned, but our mistakes taint your reputation. _

_Your mother's medical history reflects poorly on you, putting in doubt your own health. Once this fully dawned on me, I knew I had only one choice._  
_After I spoke to Mr. Phelps, I called Georgiana, who urged me to correct my mistake. This is a hard choice, but I must do it for you._

_Your mother and I will be known as your surrogate parents, allowing Georgiana and Salem to adopt you. This will correct everything, and provide the money for your mom's treatments._  
_Please don't be upset, it is the best decision. Your aunt is sorting out the details, she will explain things further, once you have read this letter."_

* * *

I don't know what my dad can be thinking. He is my dad! And my aunt can't possibly become my mom! I don't want them to do this for a career!

I jump from the bed, running to find my aunt. A servant shows me to her rooms, where she's getting her hair changed. I don't really pay attention to manners as I run in.

'Aunt Gigi! You can't do what dad wants! Let me go back home!" I've never yelled so loud, and I can see her stylist is surprised.

"Feria stop." My aunt stands up, turning to face me. "You've read my brother's letter?"

I nod, my chin quivering.

"Now, Effie, look at things from his perspective. He's doing you a tremendous favor. And he's already signed the legal documents, I really don't want to go through the reversal process."

My reaction is terrible, but I can't help it. "How can you! I don't want to live here! This isn't my home!'

She takes a deep breath, "I'm sorry, but this is your new life."

I step back, overwhelmed but not just by the smells of the hair dyes. How can this be happening? If my dad really loved me, he couldn't, no he wouldn't have done this.

**Your Reviews are great! It makes writing so much more fun. :-)**


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